“It’s funny when grown adults act like spoiled children,” you once said. “It becomes not funny when they have guns.”
I laughed and said, “True.” We were talking about the invasion of some faraway land. The situation had nothing to do with us.
Now, I hear ignorant people calling you antifa, saying you had it coming.
At your memorial service, I share how you loved Mozart. Pink was your favorite color. One time, when we were kids, you got lost on the beach at night.
You died as you lived: wrong place, wrong time, right reasons.
This is my entry for Friday Fictioneers, this time heavily inspired by Rochelle’s story, as well as the photo from Roger. Hope everyone has a great week.